


The Curse of Undeath We Were Blessed With

by Apocalypse_the_Abysswalker



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Love/Hate, M/M, Major Character Undeath, POV First Person, Pain, Painful Sex, Self-Hatred, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:01:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21769537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apocalypse_the_Abysswalker/pseuds/Apocalypse_the_Abysswalker
Summary: Short story about how Koltira and Thassarian got close. Written in POV of Koltira.
Relationships: Koltira Deathweaver/Thassarian
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	The Curse of Undeath We Were Blessed With

I remained in Thassarian's arms, letting him hold me. It was laughable, how I found liking in the very person that helped destroy everything I ever loved. I didn't allow myself to feel anything. But I couldn't push him away when he held me in such a gentle and comforting way.

* * *

I remember when I hated him more than anything. I wanted to kill him. But the iron grip of Lich King around my mind didn't let me. I learned in time that Thassarian had no wish to kill or hurt me, neither to raise me as an undead monster.

It was all Lich King's work, his orders couldn't be resisted. Knowing this wasn't enough to stop me from hating him.

It was the look in his eyes that changed how I felt. He showed me that there are some tender parts left in both me and him. And he cherished them, not letting the ice freeze them over.

The first time he showed me his softer side was when we were walking through the empty halls of Acherus. We were both here by chance, picking up supplies before being sent to fight the never-ending lines of innocent citizens of Azeroth. I was angry. I learnt that my will is not my own and I hated the fact. 

"Why couldn't I be left to die? Why did you put this curse onto me?" I screamed at Thassarian. He seemed pained by my words. His eyes were hazy with sorrow. He didn’t say anything and that only made me angrier.

"I hate you," I shouted at him, rage blinding me, as I ran at him with a dagger that I picked up earlier.

I knew he was fast and strong. I knew he was capable of dodging or blocking my attack easily, but the dagger ended up in his chest, in his dead heart.

"Koltira," he whispered and made no attempt to pull the dagger out. Instead, he leaned closer to me, embracing me, and the dagger was pushed deeper into his chest. I was too shocked to react, to shocked to push him away when he rested his head on my shoulder, holding me tightly in his arms, looking almost comfortable.

"I hate myself too," he whispered so quietly that I wondered if it wasn't just my imagination.

It was hard to hate him after I saw this side of him. I wanted to ask him what this meant, but there were no words I could think of to describe something so delicate.

* * *

"Thassarian," I whispered to his ear when I pushed him into a wall of Acherus. It was another rare moment that we spent together alone. I wondered if it was really only a coincidence or if we both wanted it. I wanted him to feel the coldness of my skin, coldness that resided in my heart, too. I pressed my body against his when I spoke to him.

"Do you regret doing this to me? Do you regret being too weak to resist his commands?" He looked away, trying to hide his face.

"Look at me," I said and put a finger under his chin to turn his head to face me. I saw his expression, yes, but his eyes were still looking away, not prepared to face me this way, refusing to look into mine.

"Thassarian," I whispered again, more gently. "How can I forgive you if you can't forgive yourself?" I asked. The real question I wanted to ask was: _How can I live like this? How to make my existence... Bearable? How to live after becoming something I hate?_ But I let the other questions unspoken, and waited. Thassarian didn't answer me, which wasn't unexpected. I decided to press on with more questions, sure that he will start talking at some point.

"Thassarian," I said again, now in a more demanding tone. "What is it you're guilty of? Did you enjoy defiling my body in such a twisted way? Killing me wasn't enough, so you denied me the peace of death and defiled even my soul as you raised me from the ruins of my city where I have fallen. Did you take joy in it, is that the thing you can't forgive yourself?" The words dripped from my lips like venom and I wanted to know, _needed_ to know what exactly tormented his mind in such a way that he let me stab a dagger into his chest without even wincing.

"Koltira," he said hoarsely. "I never took joy in defiling your body and soul. It's just that I can't bear seeing what I made you become." Now that was unexpected. His words touched me in places I deemed long lost. He must have watched me for some time on the battlefield, and he must have seen who I was in life. I used to be so proud and honorable. I never knew that someone noticed who I was and then the huge change in me, when just like my flesh my morals started decaying.

I took a step back. He left me feeling somewhat vulnerable and exposed. It should have not been so easy to get to me like that. I gave him one last look - he avoided looking into my eyes again - and then I quickly walked away without saying another word. I wanted to be alone. He knew better than to follow me.

* * *

We both knew better than to open that topic again. I think I still hated him at that point. But I wasn't so determined to kill him anymore. I started enjoying his company. I tried to lie to both him and myself, trying to make us both believe that I despise him and hate every minute I spend with him, but ultimately, I gave up and just enjoyed having someone who at least remotely understands my suffering.

 _Suffer well_ , we always told each other instead of a goodbye. But our goodbyes were rare and we spent more time together than separated.

There was so much I wanted to say but couldn't. Refraining from speaking, I tried to talk with my body and eyes. It took months to make Thassarian withstand my piercing gaze and make him look into my eyes.

When he did, he whispered my name. “ _Koltira,"_ he said much differently than he used to say. There was something new in his voice, something I couldn't quite describe. I wish I wasn't so oblivious back then. I had no idea what he desired, but I think I should have known. His eyes changed when they sunk into mine, telling me more than mere words ever could. Since that day he stopped avoiding my gaze.

We had much more than he deserved and we cherished every moment. We stole a few precious moments for us every day, hidden from hateful eyes, holding each other in a gentle embrace, so strange for twisted creatures like us. It was so comforting and I felt like a simple embrace could protect me and hide me from this ugly life.

* * *

We were at Acherus again when Thassarian pressed me against a wall. There, he kissed me for the first time. There was no hunger or lust in this kiss, it was as gentle as his embraces, and it made me melt into his touch and kiss him back. It felt like a natural thing to do. During the long months together, we formed something more than just friendship. I didn't dare to call it love. Love was for the living. But I couldn't call it _nothing_ either, because we were so close it was almost unbearable. This closeness was the only thing keeping me from going mad and becoming a mindless killing machine. It was the only thing that was _right_ for me in this world.

"Are you going to defile my body even further?" I whispered into his ear. It sounded almost like a moan. I would take joy in letting him enter me and _defile_ me and use me this way. But he wanted it differently.

"No, Koltira. _Take me_ ," he said with pleading eyes, offering his body to me, and I took it. The sight of the one who took everything to me, submitting to me so thoroughly, made me breathless, made me feel desire for bodily pleasures for the first time since I died. We changed positions, he was facing the wall now, and I was pressing at him from behind. I didn't bother with taking off all of our clothes, just the necessary amount. Soon I was pressing my dick into his tight opening.

I grabbed his hair and pressed his face into the wall in from of him. Gone was the gentleness when I forced my dick inside him, not bothering to prepare him. He cried out in pain or pleasure or a mix of both. I fucked him hard, biting his neck from behind, scratching his chest in which I dug my nails to pull him closer to me. I didn't care that anyone could come here and see us. My eyes rolled back when I reached climax, and I stroked Thassarian's dick so he could reach his, too. We came together, and it felt amazing, I never expected I could feel this much pleasure in my dead body. The desire silenced my hatred and I wanted more of Thassarian.

* * *

I calmed down after taking him so roughly a few times. I got less angry and more affectionate. We even got the luxury to fuck in a bed, properly, like lovers. It was in a city that the Scourge raided. We still had time before we had to move elsewhere and we hid in one of the abandoned houses. We had the time to lay together naked, kissing while I spread Thassarian's tight ass with one, then two fingers, preparing him so he won't be hurt by me again. He was moaning my name and got lost in the pleasure, eyes hazy when I entered him.

He laid on his back and his legs were spread, and I couldn't resist, I plunged deep into him. I didn't scratch this time, I just kissed him and looked into his eyes as I fucked him slowly. I felt alive again. Long gone was my hatred and I was grateful for the blessed time we could spend together.

He held me in his arms when we were done. I have never felt so safe before. He didn't have to tell me how to live without hating myself. He showed me.


End file.
